


Listen

by Ulan



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Confessions, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What will I do with you if I am free to do whatever I wish? Ah, such a question. Are you ready for the answer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen

What will I do with you if I am free to do whatever I wish? Ah, such a question. Are you ready for the answer?

We have known each other for a long time, have we not? But did you know that you caught my attention the moment we met? Among Gil-galad's advisers, you stood tall and formidable, a vision of great contrasts: black hair against pale skin, pale skin against the deep burgundy of your formal robes (yes, I remember what you wore when we met). Your face immediately drew me in - dark, solid brows, upon which I recognised the wisdom of millennia; deep-set eyes, sharp and observant, which I later learned were all the more fascinating with the way they shifted colours (I have made a study of this throughout the years, and I could tell you what colour your eyes will be given where we are, what we are doing, what time of day it is); your mouth... oh, those plump buds, surprisingly red even on such an ordinary day like that day, tempting even in stillness. 

Gil-galad made a quip about something not everyone was able to catch, but your eyes were the first to shift to him. Your lips twitched in amusement, which you quickly sought to hide behind your hand even as another adviser beside you floundered in defense over what the High King said, and I was lost. 

You are like this - still, subdued, silent unless necessity calls for you to speak, at which point you would be concise, to the point, always on top of things. You are delightfully clever, and it is such a pleasure to watch you in a debate, a heated argument, or even in just convincing the High King of a course of action you thought was wisest. In these things, you truly are in your element. 

In no time at all I was infatuated with you, completely and, not long after, desperately. I looked forward to seeing you in council and during meal times, outside of which I did not see you as often. I do not know if you noticed that I was seated beside you more times than I was not, but fortunately, you were more inclined to friendship with me than I initially expected. It was the first of my many achievements with you, each step closer an effort of many years. Pathetic really, how the simplest reward - laughter, a private smile, the first accidental touch of your hand - could sustain me for the succeeding years, through Lindon and here now in Imladris, until such time that we move nearer to that line that marked something beyond friendship. But however slowly we moved towards that line, we sure crossed it with so little premeditation and even less finesse - stumbling past the threshhold of your door, both emboldened by the ale we drank, and laughing. I kissed you and... in the morning, woke up next to you.

And so here we are now, just recently past that initial awkwardness, and you are now asking me for... what, a confession? I hope you are certain that this is what you wish. I have made no great secret of my regard for you, and you must have known for a while now that I look at you with eyes that are more than that of a friend's. My eyes for you are ever those of an admirer's, desirous and hopeful, just waiting until you have made up your mind. You asking now... I expect you have some idea of what you are about to hear.

I would take your hand, if such a thing were now allowed. I would take it - yes, just like this - and I would caress it like so - lightly, tenderly, just the pad of my thumb against your knuckles and the back of your hand, my fingers down the middle of your palm. You do not know what joy this brings me. Warmth suffuces my chest, up my arms and my face; I know I flush-- no, you silly thing, do not turn and look! I flush, but also, I know I smile, for I am nothing short of smitten, and things like this are the stuff of daydreams. 

So, my darling, do not pull away. Take not your hand from mine; instead, give me the other one, so I may entwine our fingers together in the way I love to do in my mind when I am at rest and thinking of you. I wish to hold you securely in my arms, your back to my chest, yes, just like this. Are you comfortable? Good, for I am not inclined to let you go, not anytime soon, not when you are now right where I want you. Now stay still and listen, for these that I will say next you might not be ready for, but you did ask, and you, my sweet, shall now learn where your boldness and gall can take you. 

If I were free to do so, I shall pull you to me and wrap your arms around my waist. I will have you turn your face up to me so that I can look at you, admire you, have my fill of beauty the likes of which I have never, in all my lives, come to know. If such things could be devoured with our eyes I could - would - suck you dry, drink of you greedily until there is nothing more for others to see. And though everything about your face I love and could sing praises, in the end, inevitably, your lips shall draw me and pull me in. Oh, darling, I will not resist. 

Your lips are sweet, and I shall linger upon them with soft, tiny pecks, teasing you hopefully, for there is nothing more rewarding than when you turn up to me and ask for and offer more. I shall kiss you with light brushes of my lips, with my lips closing around yours and pulling. I do so love the sounds of such kisses, that deceptively gentle suction, letting go but with the expectation of recapture, for such kisses are always teasing, must always be the beginning, never the end, save that you wish to curse yourself with a sleepless night. These seemingly innocent kisses are the prelude to even better things, and I shall stretch them until I have your fingers curling and burying themselves on my shoulder, until your lips part wider of their own accord, until I feel the tip of your tongue inviting me into your mouth, until you are moaning in both pleasure and frustration and your body is flush against mine, pulling me to dive deeper. I will make you want this as much as I have wanted you, make you feel a desire so strong you cannot suppress it, for only then would you come to understand how much you have driven me mad, wanting you and pining after you all these long years. 

Finally, when I have decided to kiss you properly, I shall do it thusly: I shall bury my fingers in your hair, my other arm shall wrap around your waist; I will pull your lips harder against mine, pull your body tightly against mine, so tight that you will come to know every hard line of it and feel every muscle straining for you. I will coax your lips open so I may taste of the sweet nectar of your mouth. My tongue shall dive past your red lips, wet with my kisses, and I shall tilt your head back as I explore your mouth, drink off your tongue. Oh, just imagining the taste of you this way... I shiver at the very idea of it. 

I do hope we are doing this near a bed, for by this point there is no way I would not pull you to the nearest horizontal surface. Also by this point, I should be pulling at your clothes... Ah, but on the topic of clothes, let me tell you one of my fondest memories of that night we shared in your rooms. We had not drunk so much that we completely lost our wits; we drank enough for courage, but the memories remained. How grateful am I that this is so, for this picture of you kept me company on those days afterward that you could not meet my eyes. 

We had begun to pull on each other's clothes, stealing kisses in between. With all my pent-up desire, I knew I had not been gentle, so that your lips were red and glistening from my kisses and your neck was beginning to become dotted with red patches. I had pulled the ties and the braids from your hair so that they fell around your face free and disheveled. I had also pulled on your robes so that they fell down, bunched down on your elbows so that the creaminess of your white shoulders, arms, and chest are bare for me to see. It was the messiest I have ever seen you, but also the sexiest, the very picture of all that I desire. You were sitting on top of me looking so deliciously decadent that I swore then and there that I would have you thus as often as I can manage. Perhaps you remember what I did next, something I could not have stopped myself from doing even if I wanted to: I rolled us over so that you were beneath me on the bed and I proceeded to ravish you. 

I will have you look the same again, but this time around I shall keep you on top of me. This time, I shall run my hands all over your skin, up your arms, know the shape and angles of your shoulders, down your chest. The frantic desperation of last time left me with little room to explore, but this time it will be different. I want to know how sensitive you really are. I want to see whether your nipples can go from pink to red as your lips, whether they are sensitive to teasing. Pink and puckered in the cool air of the night, your nipples are their own set of temptation for me. I long to touch them with my fingers, to know whether you like it better if I rub them directly with the pads of my fingers or whether the smooth slide of nails against fabric would make it more pleasurable for you. I wish to feel them between my lips, against my tongue when I suck on them. I want to see them glisten in the low light from the work of my mouth. More importantly, I want to know whether such things bring you pleasure at all. I understand not everyone appreciates such touches, after all, but it would be a shame if you do not, for your body truly is lovely, those blushing nubs most especially. Ah, but it looks like you do, for you blush and squirm in my arms. Excellent. 

Lovely thing, I shall unwrap you like a most awaited present. I will do so slowly, so that each knot I untie and pull from your robes, each slide of fabric, you shall feel against your skin like a loving caress. Each stretch of skin revealed shall be kissed - oh, far from innocently. I shall take my time knowing, tasting, memorising, so that when we are done I could mould your likeness in clay, and every curve and crevice made by supple muscles would be completely accurate. With every kiss I shall breathe deeply of you, know the heady scent of your musk and that pleasing undertone of something woodsy, something floral, that underlying comfort of candles and old parchment, layers of scents as if mixed for my own personal undoing. I never have been able to catch you with practices of vanity, but surely you must have them, for no one could have been born smelling as wonderfully as you do. I could spend an entire day just breathing deeply of the scent of your neck. Forgive me, my darling, for I cannot promise I won't bite, for truly tempting you are. What I can promise you, however, is that I will have you at such a height of pleasure, the feel of my teeth would only push you further to the edge of bliss, not back from it. 

Once you are bare before me, again, forgive me, for I know I shall stop and stare. Every part of me, every sense, hungers for you, and my eyes not least of all. Ah, but speaking of senses, there is one that has thus far been deprived. You, my prince, are so controlled, so quiet, that I would not be surprised if you had maintained your silence even this far in the proceedings. But no matter, for I swear to you the night shall not end without you crying out at least once. However controlled one might be, there is one part of us that we cannot deny. 

You might think, this being only the second time, that I would shy away from taking things too far. I'm afraid that would not be so. I have grown accustomed to you, you see, in my mind's eye. You accompany me at nights in my sleep in ways, oh, I cannot even begin to describe. And so I shall lay you upon my bed, run my hands down your sides and your thighs, pull them apart so I may sit between them. I shall look upon you with such desire, my eyes running down from your face to your chest, down your torso, so beautifully long and lean, and down to that part of you laying stiff against your abdomen. By the Valar, just the thought of it makes me hard myself, makes my mouth water, so vividly do I remember the taste of you on my tongue. Do you feel it? 

Oh, my darling, do not shy away. If you grow aroused, then that is good, for that is my aim. Come here; hide yourself not from me. Listen. 

I will run my palm up your length, delight in your surprised hiss of pleasure, for there is no way you cannot enjoy this. I shall wrap my hand around you, know the shape of you from base to crown. I shall squeeze you first, then rub up and down, ease the way with the oil I keep under the pillows for I have need of it every night ever since you awakened my desire. The slick slide shall help me now to slowly milk your hot length - dare I say it? - your beautiful cock. Ah, just saying it... my mouth waters. I remember the feel of it in my fist, the heat of it in my mouth. By this time a bead of fluid would have gathered at the tip, and this finally I will not be able to deny myself. I shall take it on my tongue, lick you up and take you in my mouth, suck you in like I did that first night, until you are moaning loudly and helplessly beneath me. 

Now let me tell you something else, for this far we did not go that first night. But you asked me what I would do if I could do whatever I wish. Then, then the answer is this: I would have you, wholly and completely. I want you mine in a way no one could question, not even you, for I shall mark you so that you would remember me when you move, and you shall bear the mark of my fingers around your wrists should your sleeves slip, the marks of my mouth and teeth on your neck and shoulders if you do not wear your hair carefully to hide them. Most importantly, I want you to carry my mark so that people would recognise it in your face, know it when they meet you, know that you are claimed, no longer available, that you are mine and mine alone.

If you grant me this, I promise to prepare you so well and thoroughly you shall feel only but fleeting pain. I have pictured us together so often in my mind, I believe it could almost count as practise. I would make sure you are relaxed, I would kiss you where I could reach skin, whisper words of love and awe and poetry inspired by your beauty in this moment. My fingers would push past that outer ring of muscle, wait patiently for it to give way. I will tell you to breath evenly, to follow my slow inhale and exhale as I stretch you open - slowly, carefully, lovingly. I will watch for your every reaction so I may know to relent at the hint of pain, to push further when it seems you are ready for more. When you are ready, I shall push in deeper, add one finger after another, let you get used to the girth each time, for I am afraid to hurt you.

Once you have become more comfortable with me, ah, well, this is where we move to better things. Listen: we shall return to two fingers, for I shall have you eager for me, and not merely prepared to brace yourself for it. I want you mad with want, I want to see that wild look of frustration and impatience in your eyes, your nails on my skin as you pull me to you for more. This I shall do by stroking that place inside you that would surely bring you to pleasures you have never known... unless, my dear counsellor, you have touched yourself this way, in which case I believe you are bolder than I give you credit for. But what a delicious sight that must be; you must let me watch how you do it someday. 

All right, all right, no need to hit me. I had nothing to lose in trying, did I? Behave now, and listen to my story. 

I'm afraid the technique might not be perfect, for of course in first couplings, things are seldom so. But in my careful exploration of your body, I hope to learn how far my fingers must go, how far in you they _can_ go, how I must curl my fingers to touch that part of you that would shoot lightning streaks of ecstasy up your limbs. Doubt it not, I shall have you moaning and whimpering beneath me with but my hands alone. I shall watch you as I pump my fingers in and out of you, find that pace and rhythm that bring you the most pleasure. I shall keep this in mind, for later when I claim you, I shall strive to follow the pace you set, for on this night, I shall have nothing less than your complete destruction and submission.

I had a friend once, a fellow warrior, who told me of occasions when he could make his husband come undone again and again in a single night. He said that it is in the way one thrusts inside one's mate, how important it is to stroke that nub of pleasure with every push, which is different from when you are touched here where the pleasure to be gained is more obvious. Are you imagining it? Once my hands have succeeded in their mission, once you are shaking and begging me to take you, I shall do so with such relish. I shall take your hips with both hands, pull you to me so that I am positioned between your legs. I will place a pillow behind your back - I was told this helps for what I intend to do, especially for the first time - run my fingers lightly up your stomach, up your chest, maybe brush one nipple in passing. When you are distracted and moaning, I shall push in, slowly and only a bit each time, timing it to your breathing, to all your signals, so that once I am inside you to the hilt, we will both know nothing but pleasure and relief. 

I was also told that it is possible to do this without pain for you. I hope whatever it is that I have done, I have done right to indeed prevent such a thing. For I promise you, my prince, I would go to the endless Void and back, were I told that doing such a thing would ensure your happiness for all time. There is nothing I would not do for you, the Valar help me. To ensure your pleasure every time we do this is but a small thing compared to the extent of the efforts I can see myself doing for your sake, for love of you, for I tell you now, I do. I love you like I have never loved another, in all the millennia I have walked in Arda. I love you in ways in which I sometimes cannot comprehend. I love you when I am not with you, and I long for your company with a desire I sometimes cannot hold, and more often than I care to admit have I felt the sting of tears in my eyes even in the most inopportune moments. I love you when you are sitting across from me, when I am losing so horribly at a game of chess, for my mind flies out the window the moment you lean elegantly in your seat, your cheek resting lightly against your beautiful, long fingers, and you would look at me as if you were wondering if I could see what you are up to. Oftentimes, I could not, and I would be trapped by you on the board as surely as my heart has been trapped in your grasp, whether or not you knew. 

This is why, my darling, if I am too loud in our coupling, sometimes too rough, you must forgive me. Forgive me, for this is the culmination of my long years of suffering, loving you as I do. But be not mistaken, for I did not lie when I promised you pleasure you have never known. I shall thrust inside you for the sake of your pleasure first before mine. You shall feel me inside you, filling you to your capacity, sliding long and slowly and each time brushing against that place that will make your skin come alive with sparks, set your loins aflame, melt a pool of heat and desire that you shall feel deep in your gut. When your breath quickens, when you claw at me to push you to completion, I will do so with quick, steady thrusts, hard and deep and always, always against that place until you are crying out and arching beneath me and trembling and coming. 

I will let you recover. And then I shall have you again. 

You must realise how long I have wanted this. You therefore must expect that I shall not have the night end so quickly. I shall be demanding, insatiable, stubborn and so in love. Now that you know, I will make sure that you never forget. I shall kiss you as I claim you, again and again and again, long and drawn out those first times, see how long you can take it. I want you to see it in your mind as clearly as I see it in mine: me between your thighs, holding them up and apart as I breach you, pushing deep inside you over and over. I will have you come undone one more time, and once your breathing slows, I will spread your legs and have you again, and again, and again. The later ones will be forceful and the bed will shake, and I shall hold your wrists down on the bed, for otherwise you would be scratching me raw. But we shall go on, unable to stop, and we shall do this until your voice is hoarse and you are begging me no more, for you are drained of strength, so many times have you found your peak. And this time it shall be I who begs, for I will ask for one more, one last time for the night. If-- _When_ you acquiesce - for now that I think about it, you never have refused me, have you? - I will take you in my arms, hold you to me and bury my face in your neck and hair as I thrust, listen to your moans, now probably a mix of pleasure and the strain of having been demanded for so much in a night. These, the sounds of you, the feel of you tight around me, the perfect, near unbearable ecstasy of sliding in and out of you - you will hear my voice in your ear, my strained cry, and you shall feel the heat of me coming inside you, and in my claiming of you, you will hear how you have claim of me, too - deeply, undeniably, and, by the Valar, completely and absolutely. 

*

The room was suddenly silent save for the sound of heavy breathing. Everything seemed to have gone still, which came as a shock given the words that had just been uttered before this silence, and the wanton cry that marked its end.

And then... the sound of shuffling, and a throat being cleared, hesitant and almost uncertain.

"What... What in the world..."

Glorfindel smirked. He extracted his hand beneath the folds of Erestor's robes, pulling the fabric lower down the counsellor's thighs. He would have preferred it to stay the way it was, bunched up around the other's legs and displaying a stretch of creamy, white thigh, but Erestor being the way he was, Glorfindel was not willing to risk the other jumping up scandalised and pulling his robes completely around himself, hiding everything altogether. Just like this, with those robes a slight mess, showing some patches of skin, strands of black hair astray - such things can do much for him, too, anyway. 

Discretely, he wiped his hand on the bed covers behind him as his other arm wrapped tighter around Erestor. He kissed a pink cheek. "Good?" he purred against one perfectly pointed ear.

Erestor coughed, clearing his throat and blushing deeply. "J-Just give me a moment. Valar, Glorfindel."

"I asked you if you wanted to hear it." Both arms around the other now, nose burying itself in sweet-smelling hair. Erestor had recently bathed, the scent of the oils he preferred wafting around Glorfindel, heady and tempting. "What did you expect asking me such a question anyway?"

"I expected you to blush," scoffed the adviser, "not to pull me against you and assault my ears and my... my... my _person_ with your sordid fantasies." Erestor huffed, but Glorfindel found it all so adorable, even when the other was glaring at him. "That telling... it did not embarass you at all, did it?"

"I am feeling a lot of things at the moment. Embarrassment is maybe just a small part of it." He stared at Erestor - at the blush on his cheeks, that sleepy haze in his eyes from having just been touched beneath his robes and brought to his peak of pleasure, a look which, despite his scandalised affront, he apparently was not able to hide. It made Glorfindel want to have him again - to touch him again. "Look at you, though," he could not help but whisper in awe. "You make it absolutely worth it."

If it were possible, Erestor blushed a deeper red and looked away. Glorfindel laughed, but he pulled Erestor to himself, the other's back against his chest. He deeply breathed the scent of him, kissed the back of his neck, anywhere he could reach. He could not help himself; he had taken the edge off for Erestor, but he worked himself up in the telling of that story so that he was now hard and desperate for the Elf in his arms, the centre of all his secret - and now not-so-secret - fantasies. 

"As far as confessions go, that is the dirtiest I have ever heard," he heard Erestor say, which made Glorfindel laugh again. 

"And I am sure you've heard many," he conceded. "But I like to be memorable, as unlike these other Elves, I will take nothing less than having you for my own. I had to get your attention somehow."

Despite himself, Erestor huffed out a laugh. "Only you would think to win me through blatant seduction. Again, another first."

"It is a shame," began Glorfindel, pulling Erestor so he would turn to him again, "that because of your demeanour in public, that well-known control, people have erroneously assumed that you would be above such carnal desires. That is not true at all, is it, Erestor?" He lightly ran a finger down from Erestor's temple, down to his cheek and chin, brushing stray hairs aside so that his face was clear, free for Glorfindel to see. There was still that adorable blush, the glassy look in his eyes, and, of course, those lips, so soft to his touch. He felt Erestor's breath quicken against the tips of his fingers. "You have this sensuality about you that cannot be by accident. You are too conscious of the way you move. You like luxurious things - the sweet and deep taste of good wine, stately robes of the finest silk, the mellow music in the Hall of Fire, the golden glow of a room lit by just the right number of candles, the way you always smell so good. I had guessed, and rightly so it seems, that there is a creature underneath all this that enjoys the touch of a heavy hand, appreciates a long and playful foreplay..." Unable to stop himself, he kissed those lips, lightly as he earlier described, drawing sounds that made the heat pool even more in his groin. "...so responsive to seduction. You are perfect, exactly what I desire in a mate. Of course, I loved you first - nay, perhaps I wanted you first, then fell in love, and the two coming together brings us both now here, with me all but begging you to take what I offer. I had hoped, in you asking, you have finally made up your mind. Give yourself to me, Erestor. I promise you will never regret it."

It seemed to Glorfindel that he waited a long time before Erestor finally responded. This was why such relief coursed through him when long arms slid up his own to settle on his shoulders and around his neck, and when he was kissed, he returned the gesture and affection tenfold. 

"You have proven yourself to be quite the attentive admirer," said Erestor between kisses. "And I do find it satisfying to have a well-planned course of action. When it comes to this, yours is delightfully detailed." 

"I also know you hate having such detailed plans go to waste, especially when there is merit in them," grinned Glorfindel against his partner's lips. 

"Right again, Captain." Another kiss, before Erestor was pulling away. Their eyes met and held, after which a slow smile began to spread on Erestor's lips. "So," he said, "what are you waiting for?"

Glorfindel needed not be told twice. The acquiescence and confirmation he had long waited for now in his grasp, he pulled Erestor's feet off the ground and up completely to his bed, a place he had no intention of letting the other Elf escape from again. He then proceeded to make good of his plans, to the great approval of the one he so desired, and to the joy and satisfaction of his own heart... among other things.

**Author's Note:**

> Because few things are more relaxing than perving on Erestor. *cough* I may be developing a problem. 
> 
> Nope, life is still not slowing down. I might be busy until the end of May. So... one-shots until then, I think. :(


End file.
